East City

Master Zhou had laid out the reasoning clearly, and Xu Yi felt relieved.

Master Zhou was a wise man, and with so many clues to go on, it was only natural that he could see through Xu Yi's strengths and weaknesses.

"Don't worry, boy. My dantian is crippled, and I'm merely passing what remains of my life. I'll take your secrets to the grave."

Master Zhou had spent many years in the martial world. He knew all too well that people killed to keep secrets hidden, and that such deeds were countless. So he spoke up to dispel Xu Yi's lingering concerns.

Xu Yi said, "I've had many questions answered by you, Master, and I owe you a great deal. I haven't even begun to repay you. How could I harbor any other intentions?"

He was proud and disillusioned with the world, yet he placed great importance on gratitude and loyalty. Master Zhou was, in a way, half a teacher to him.

"What are you talking about, gratitude? I already told you, you paid for all that with fine wine. We made a fair exchange. Don't try to sweet-talk me, boy, and expect to get answers from this old man without spending a penny on wine from now on."

Master Zhou took a hearty swig and burst into laughter.

Xu Yi laughed too. "I've already deposited some silver at Drunkard's Workshop and told them to deliver a jar to you every five days for the next year. Just drink to your heart's content."

Master Zhou's hearty laughter cut off abruptly. He stared blankly at Xu Yi for a long while without speaking. Then he sighed, turned, and ducked into the side room. Before long, he came back out with a brown, square case in his hand.

"Last time, you asked me how someone in the Body Tempering Realm, who should only have the Strength of one ox, could unleash the Strength of three oxen. Take this Overlord Strength Art and study it."

As he spoke, Master Zhou handed over the case.

Xu Yi didn't stand on ceremony. He took the case and opened it. Inside lay a thin roll of black paper. When he picked it up, it felt as hard as iron—clearly made of no ordinary material.

Xu Yi was eagerly leafing through the art when Master Zhou said, "I obtained this Overlord Strength Art years ago, alongside my late master, from a hidden place. According to the art, if you cultivate it properly, then even in the Body Tempering Realm, a single strike can unleash the Strength of three oxen. Pay attention: the marvel of this art is that, unlike ordinary techniques that dig into your potential, it doesn't require you to pay a heavy price to strike beyond your limits. Once you've mastered it, as long as your body is full of strength and your mind is steady, you can keep unleashing the Strength of three oxen. This art has three layers. Each layer adds the Strength of three oxen. Once you've mastered all three, you'll have strength enough to uproot mountains and overwhelm the world, an unstoppable might..."

Like all martial artists, Xu Yi pursued greater offensive power with near-obsessive devotion. Hearing of a divine art that could greatly increase his strength, he was overjoyed. He took the manual without hesitation and began reading. A moment later, he murmured, "Top-grade Scarlet Refined Grass, a century-old Crimson Gold Snake Eye, Bear King Gallbladder... Master, what kind of art is this? Why does cultivating it require so many medicinal ingredients?"

He put away the manual, his curiosity burning.

When he had practiced the Demonic Ox Great Strength Fist, he had followed only its three moves and the diagram for circulating his blood and qi, and had forced his way to Body Tempering Peak. Aside from taking some inferior Black Dragon Grass to replenish his strength, he had relied on almost nothing else. So he had assumed other arts could be mastered through hard practice alone.

Master Zhou was taken aback, then laughed. "I honestly don't know how you made it this far, boy. Your knowledge of Martial Arts is as blank as a sheet of paper. I suppose I'll have to go out of my way once more and teach you. In truth, extraordinary arts often require extraordinary medicines, because human strength has its limits. The top-tier techniques our predecessors developed are, in essence, ingenious ways of absorbing the power of nature. Take the rare ingredients listed in the Overlord Strength Art, for example. They contain the power of nature. That power can't simply turn into a martial artist's strength on its own; there has to be a bridge between them. A martial art is that bridge."

Xu Yi listened with solemn respect.

Master Zhou continued, "To be honest, I've had this Overlord Strength Art for more than twenty years. My master and I both went to great lengths to gather the ingredients I mentioned, then cultivated according to the art. But whenever we reached the stage of reversing the flow through our meridians, exhaustion and intense pain would surge upon us. Our souls couldn't bear it, and we were forced to stop halfway. Since your Soul Power is exceptional, boy, I imagine this Overlord Strength Art could shine in your hands."

"Thank you for this generous gift, Master!"

Xu Yi was deeply grateful.

He had practiced for two years. Though he knew little about Martial Arts, Liao Chen had told him that the world placed great importance on martial cultivation, and that martial manuals were immensely precious. Top-tier arts, in particular, were rare throughout the land.

Even the Nirvana Divine Fist, which required one to gather strength for a long while before unleashing the Strength of three oxen and came with severe aftereffects, was regarded by an expert like Elder Feng as a trump card. Just how precious must this Overlord Strength Art be, when it could unleash the Strength of three oxen again and again?

Master Zhou waved a hand. "Generous gift, my foot. Don't think this old man's giving it to you for free. I have a condition. How about I trade this Overlord Strength Art for wine for the rest of my life?"

"How could such a treasure be measured against a mere bit of wine?" Xu Yi protested repeatedly.

Master Zhou glared at him. "Don't waste your breath. To me, this art is scrap paper, while fine wine is my lifeblood. I traded scrap paper for my lifeblood. Whether that's a good deal or a bad one depends on the person. No need to say more."

"Fine. I'll take care of your wine for the rest of your life, old man."

Xu Yi said no more. Just as with Uncle Mu, he understood that some debts of gratitude couldn't be repaid with words.

Master Zhou smiled. "Then our deal is settled! All right, boy, this old man's going to sleep. You'd better hurry and prepare for the battle. If you get the chance, take a look around East City."

Xu Yi thanked him and headed straight for East City.

The moment he stepped through the arched Stone Gate into East City, Xu Yi understood why Master Zhou had directed him there.

The entire East City was clearly a city built especially for martial cultivators.

Once through the gate, he looked out upon a broad avenue wide enough for ten horses to ride abreast. Carriages and horses streamed past, while crowds surged and flowed without end.

Tall mansions and grand buildings stood shoulder to shoulder along the street, their carved dragons and sculpted phoenixes, gorgeous eaves and brilliant corners dazzling the eye.

There were foreign monks in robes, gripping staffs; bewitching women who thrust out their chests and swayed their hips; barefoot Daoists in plain robes; Confucian scholars waving fans and wearing caps—every kind of strange and wonderful figure, enough to make anyone's eyes swim.

Most eye-catching of all were the many different mounts. Some people rode lions and tigers, others drove deer and elephants. Most outrageous was a big-eyed young man, gleaming from head to toe in gold, striding proudly through the city atop a giant serpent several dozen feet long.

The mount Xu Yi envied most was a White Eagle, twelve feet tall. A man in white robes staggered drunkenly out of a tavern, climbed onto the seat on the giant eagle's back, and tugged at the reins looped around its neck. With a clear cry, man and eagle soared through the clouds.

A line of poetry burst into Xu Yi's mind: "With a hundred thousand strings of cash at my waist, I ride a crane down to Yangzhou."

Only now did Xu Yi truly feel that he had come to a world unlike any other.